


he hates them

by jonphaedrus



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Comeplay, Dirty Talk, Double Anal Penetration, Hate Sex, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Slurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-01-27
Packaged: 2018-05-16 17:06:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5833627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jonphaedrus/pseuds/jonphaedrus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Fuck,” Cid whispers, and he’s shaking, wondering if you can superheat a human just like you can superheat a metal. His head is someone else’s, he’s falling apart, Gaius and Nero are breaking him in half are tearing him in two are, are—</p>
            </blockquote>





	he hates them

**Author's Note:**

> :^)

“You’re gorgeous,” Nero whispers, balls-deep in Cid, and he makes a noise in the back of his throat that sounds something like a curse but also like a plea, elbowing the other man in the chest, which is about all Cid is able to do in his situation. “Gods, I could fuck you all day.” 

“You wish,” Cid snaps back, only for the retort to die in his throat when Gaius curls one hand around his waist with the other knotted in his white hair at the base of his neck and tugs his head backwards until Cid is gasping, his neck aching from the angle. He would say something, snarl something, but Gaius is pressuring him open, sliding in thick and thicker inside him, cock lined up hot alongside Nero’s, and Cid thinks he might die.

“You won’t,” Gaius murmurs into the back of his shoulder, which is when Cid realises he must have spoken aloud, because his world feels like it’s crumbling down around him in great bits and pieces, he feels like he’s collapsing inside. “If nothing else has killed you yet, this won’t either.”

“Fuck,” Cid whispers, and he’s shaking, wondering if you can superheat a human just like you can superheat a metal. His head is someone else’s, he’s falling apart, Gaius and Nero are breaking him in half are tearing him in two are, are—

Gaius slides to a halt. “Shit,” says the Legatus, leaning further over Cid’s back, hand still knotted in his hair but gentler this time, fingers stroking the back of his neck. “That’s good,” Gaius whispers, and Cid is crying, he realises he’s crying. “You’re good.” Nero makes a broken noise against the base of Cid’s chest and he manages to get his fingers into the other man’s blond hair, tugs on Nero’s head. Cid wishes he could push the forces ripping him apart back into both of them, it’s too much to hold as one man.

“Quit,” Nero murmurs, and Cid clenches his jaw and tugs harder on Nero’s hair until he’s hissing, his cock throbbing hard against Cid’s wide-open rim. “Fuck,” and that’s all he can say, all Cid can say.

He was soft, sometime in the middle of it, but now with both of them inside him, cracking him apart at the seams, he’s so hard it aches. And, when Gaius shifts back and Cid settles onto both of their laps, Nero’s legs a mess around his hips, Cid almost _almost_ screams, his head back on Gaius’ shoulder and both their cocks so deep inside him that he can’t even tell any more, where they begin or where they end. “No,” Cid whispers, face pressed into the base of Gaius’ jaw. “No, wait, wait, wait,” they still, let him breathe, even though Cid can feel the wiry bursting tension in Nero’s legs and Gaius’ heart next to his ear is beating like a hammer. “Wait,” Cid pleads, and someone’s hands are on his waist, soothing him, gently touching his skin, rubbing away the screeching tension in his trembling muscles.

“Yes,” Cid says eventually, somewhere in the haze that’s just breathing and touch and sweat and the taste of Gaius’s mouth on his, kissing his swollen lips.

It’s not a rhythm, nobody thrusts in. Instead, the two of them just rock up into him, and the noises that come out of Nero’s mouth are as desperate as Cid’s own, Gaius’s breathing harsh and every other word out of his mouth a curse as their cocks grind together hard and wet and hard-soft inside Cid, trapped inside his body. Every time Gaius rocks forward, his strong hands holding Cid’s legs wide, wide, wide, so Nero can fit between them, so wide his thighs ache, Nero’s cockhead bumps forward hard and down against his prostate, the pressure combined with the _stretch_ too much, and every bump and grind makes Cid cry, sobbing helplessly, his cock hard and wet and purpling where it’s curled back against his stomach.

“You like that,” Gaius whispers, voice deep in Cid’s ear. “You love it.”

“Yes,” Cid tries to say but it just comes out wordless and cracking and he hates them and he _loves_ this, he loves being torn open and pulled asunder, he loves the way they fuck him like he’s made of glass and steel all at the same time. When Nero pinches both his nipples, rubbing at the sensitive spot where areola meets skin, Cid’s breath hitches into a desperate keening wheeze, his cock throbbing soaking his skin.

“We’re fucking you now,” Gaius murmurs, and that’s all the warning that Cid has before their rhythm does become actual fucking, before they stop rocking into him and start pulling in and out in time, and each thrust in is starbursts in his vision and his legs and thighs shake, his thighs are burning and his hands are tangled in their hair, holding on, holding on, holding on for dear life. They fuck the air out of him and fuck the tears out of him and fuck his come out of him and at some point Cid came on his chest and it’s all over his cock, but he’s still hard, he’s hard and Nero is grinding Cid’s cockhead into his own spunk, and it feels like nothing else nothing else nothing—

“What would they say if they can see you now, you’re just a cockslut, you always come back to us because you can’t fucking _stop_ can you,” Nero’s talking, and the part of Cid that can still think knows that means he’s close to coming, thrusting out of time with Gaius as he tries to get the last of the friction, raw Cid to rugburn. “Eorzea’s Garlean saviour, crying for the fourteenth’s cocks.”

“Shut up,” Cid manages, the words slurred, and at any other time he would leave Nero to talk to his damn self, but he’s not wrong he’s _right_.

“You’re disgusting,” Nero manages and if Cid could find words he’d tell the other man that he’s just as bad because whenever he comes he always has to stick his fingers into what last little bit of Cid that’s open, slid in beside the cocks that have opened him so wide that Cid will be empty and aching and near-sick later, feels himself, the fingers knocking what remains of Cid’s head askew. “I love you, I love you,” Cid knows, Cid knows, and Nero comes inside him, sticky and hot.

Gaius makes a quiet noise of discontent at the mess, and Cid thinks he should have come again but he hasn’t, he’s still hard and hanging, his cock pendulous and his balls tight. When Nero pulls out and collapses back on the bed, his eyes bright and his hair wrecked to his skull with sweat, Gaius slides a knee under Cid’s splayed too-wide legs, and fucks him long and slow until the older man comes inside him, holding Cid’s ass closed around his cock as he does it, trapping his semen inside and Gaius fucks into how wet and sloppy Cid is inside, just like he always does.

Cid comes, sometime, sometime when it’s all white heat and he feels like if Gaius lets go he’s going to spill out everything inside him, not just the mess in his ass but his heart and his stomach and the thoughts inside his head and the blood in his veins.

He’s pleading when he does, crying, half-laughing because this is what he wants, what he _needs_ , what he always comes back for and leaves, ashamed, horrified.

“We should make you a sign,” Nero murmurs, when Cid is leaking onto the bedsheets, half out of his own head, the other man drawing lines on his stomach in his own spunk. “Cid non Garlond, Imperial Cockslut. Make you wear it.”

“You fucking wish,” Cid finally whispers, and Gaius’ distant voice, cleaning up the mess between Cid’s thighs, laughs.

He hates them.

He loves this.


End file.
